Family of 6
by not.snorry
Summary: #emptytheslush Harry joins Snape's weird little family for the holidays and maybe Snape's relationship will be ok. I'm really fond of this one but lack the motivation to continue it


Cecil shook the soot from the floo off as he took inventory of the place. Books on the tables, puzzles and toys on the floor. It was enough to make him want to step right back through the floo and return to the family that respected his need for organization. He could be in New York, chasing grandchildren, seeing fresh each day how he'd done well by Lawrence and Carolyn. Something snapped under his foot and he cringed. A month in this mess and he could return to being Pop Pop, guilt free. He ran his hand along the wall as he walked to the bedroom by memory. Through the kitchen, back past the bedrooms. David's door was wide open, a bit odd for a teenager his age, but Cecil supposed there was a good chance he wasn't there quite yet. A little light glowed from the girls' room, illuminating their bodies on parallel beds. Helen, his little ray of perfection, slept flat on her back, arms folded on her chest. Maud, in contrast, slept spread out on her stomach, just like her father, whom he wasn't particularly thrilled to be seeing. He continued to the next room.

Soft snores filled the space and it smelled like potions—acerbic with hints of floral. It felt foreign. Unlike his home with Lorna, they hadn't used inherited furniture. Severus didn't have any. Cecil preferred for his to stay with Lawrence and Carolyn. Instead they'd filled it with meaningless pieces that hadn't become special in the intervening years. He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed, Severus' bed. No matter how many children they'd conceived in it, it never felt like their bed the way his bed with Lorna was _their_ bed.

"I'm home," he said as he took his spot up.

The snoring stopped abruptly and Severus retracted his extended arm. "The kids have missed you."

"They're well, I assume."

Severus groaned and the sheets rustled as he moved until the side light illuminated the room. "Maude broke her arm last week ice skating. She insisted on healing it the Muggle way."

"Unacceptable."

"David and Helen are both dating, though neither wishes to discuss it."

He thought to ask if Severus had missed him as well, though truth be told he hadn't missed Severus. He'd barely missed the children. "I'm sure you have an early morning."

Severus turned the light back off in silence before flopping onto his stomach and resuming his snoring, as if nothing had occurred. Cecil counted the seconds as he stared at the ceiling. Eighteen years in, three children, ten more years until he'd be able to leave with no guilt.

-L—

"Dad!"

Severus jolted awake, his system flooded with fear before realization and anger kicked in.

"Dad!"

His feet hit the floor and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Another day of teaching; another day of parenting—marvelous. As he walked he rolled the waist of his sweatpants, forgetting as always that Cecil's didn't fit him right. He entered the girls' room after a sharp knock. The division was obvious—teenage versus little girl, skirts versus trousers, makeup versus model airplanes.

"She took my diary!" Helen yelled as she shook Maude by the shoulders, he recently mature body towering over Maude's little one. "She has no respect for privacy."

"Enough," Severus snapped as he pulled them apart. He let Maude hold onto his arm while he stared down at the teenaged monster that had eaten up his once sweet little girl. Bloody hormones. "Maude did you take Helen's diary?"

Maude shook her head against his back.

"Helen, do you believe your sister?"

She stared him down in a way few others dared as she pulled her long locks into a high bun. With her hair up, he could see his own narrow jaw and high cheeks staring up at him. "She's lying. She wants attention and she's lying and you never take my side."

"I didn't do it!"

In the seconds it took him to respond all he could hear was the thudding of his heart. He needed Maude distracted. He needed Cecil to do his bloody job as a father. "There is chocolate," he said as he swung his arm gently, "in the top drawer of my desk."

"Chocolate!" Maude squealed triumphantly as she let go of his arm and scampered off.

"You are fifteen," he said slowly. "She is seven. I know you resent sharing a room with her."

Helen's bottom lip trembled before she spoke, but he didn't hear a trace of a sob in her voice. "She's a baby. A stupid little baby. And you always take her side."

"If you do not find your diary by tonight we will revisit the issue."

"I hate you."

His eyes fluttered shut in annoyance at the histrionics. By the time he reopened them, his chance for rebuttal was gone.

"Papa!" Maude's voice echoed.

"Papa!" Helen shouted as she shoved past Severus like he didn't matter.

Papa, Papa. He counted each breath of frustration while the girls giggled and David's deeper yet obviously sleepy voice joined in. Cecil had returned as always: hello, are the kids okay? Never: I've missed you Severus. How have you been? But still he had to pretend to be happy at the return. He ran his hand through his hair as he walked to the kitchen and put on something resembling a smile as he entered.

"Shall we make Papa a full English? Remind him of what he's been missing?"

"Yeah!" Maude bounced. "I'll help, Daddy."

-L;

He struggled to take Dumbledore seriously. It was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. A rumor that the Ministry might be tracking Potter for the purpose of finding Black? Absolutely absurd. The children, particularly the Potter child, were meant to be returning home that day so Severus could spend his break caught between arguing children and a distant husband.

"You wish to dupe the Ministry? By claiming to send him home and instead placing him in my care? So that you can hopefully capture whichever Death Eater is meant to be tracking him?"

"In essence." Dumbledore smirked like he'd won on long odds. "I'm offering to let you discipline the boy for an entire holiday with no commentary or repercussions."

He scowled, unsure if that meant he was supposed to just beat the boy or torture him. Did the man think he wanted that? To physically abuse a teenager? He'd backhanded David perhaps twice in seventeen years.

"I remember when you were younger you would be occasionally wistful with the students. The Ministry barred you from producing an heir, but that is no reason not to fulfill your paternal inclinations."

His eyebrows shot up before he could control the reaction. Albus had never said anything before. And of course the children he'd looked that way at had been his own. He didn't just stare wistfully at children. But Albus didn't know that, shouldn't know that as the holder of his parole. "I have no interest in solving Potter outside of my regular hours. It is an unwelcome disruption to my personal life."

"I was under the impression you wished to be helpful."

Severus struggled not to roll his eyes. Albus was keeping him out of Azkaban on good faith. If he ever refused, there would be cause to send him back. If he ever admitted to breaking the rules of his parole, there would be cause to send him back. "Are you my friend or my keeper?"

Albus cleared his throat as if he were apologizing. "I will pay you fairly to take Harry for the holiday. I will pick Harry up from King's Cross and apparate him to a safe house. I've extended certain wards to allow him to return to the castle without being tracked. We are anticipating an attack."

"I don't want the money," he spoke almost without thinking. "I don't need the money. I want immunity from whatever punishment you might normally give for what Potter will…" learn, discover, see. He felt like a child: asking Tobias not to punish him even when it wouldn't make a difference.

They sat awkwardly, stuck in the same old space between a friendly if not paternal relationship and a purely punitive one. One of them would have to speak first, either to ask for forgiveness or extend it. _According to the rules set out in the parole agreement, the defendant forfeits his right to produce an heir, engage in potions-making or spell-invention outside of regular academic situations, earn or spend more than 500 galleons without prior approval from Albus Dumbledore, who shall henceforth serve as executor of the Snape estate, and vote. This court shall receive annual reports from Albus Dumbledore regarding Mr. Snape's compliance. If any discrepancies are found or failings are reported, this court will revisit whether or not parole is appropriate._

"I will not report that you are brewing or inventing, you must know that. Short of lavish furnishings or piles of gold, I fail to see for what you may need, how did you word it—immunity."

A political response if there was one. If what you do that breaks the rules benefits me, I will not report you.

Severus scratched his neck mindlessly while he searched for the words. I have a family: simple concept. I had an affair with my defense professor seventh year, which has since resulted in three children: bad execution.

"At 18 I gave birth to a boy; At 20 I gave birth to a girl; At 28 I gave birth to another girl. They all have the same father. Technically they are his heirs." Enough information to explain, not enough for anything to be held over his head.

For the first time in all the years they'd known each other, Albus Dumbledore looked well and truly shocked. It was almost comical.

"You've been happy? All these years?"

"On and off. My partner is…lacking, at the best of times."

Albus frowned and cleared his throat again before walking to his liquor cabinet. He spoke while he poured two generous Manhattans. "Will your husband be opposed to hosting Harry?"

"I'm sure he'll appreciate having someone he doesn't have to parent running around. They can discuss defense."

"But you will mind hosting Harry."

"What's one more child? One more child to feed and handle issues for and give a happy Christmas. Never mind the fact that Potter is incapable of behaving or showing even a modicum of respect—"

"You see what you want to see—"

"You're so focused on making him believe he's a winner you've failed to teach him that he will also have to be an accountable adult."

They sipped their drinks in unison, with matching scowls. Albus had never been a father. What more could he possibly know about raising a teenager than a man with two of them?

-L;

Harry stepped off the Hogwarts Express with a bounce. He was going to see Sirius! He was going to spend Christmas with Sirius! Mister Weasley was alive and fairly well. For the few moments until he saw Dumbledore, it felt like nothing could go wrong. He saw the man out of the corner of his eye, hovering behind a platform pillar in the direction opposite the platform entrance. The sick feeling built in his stomach before the idea that he might not get his perfect Christmas was on the horizon. Something was wrong, if Dumbledore was sneaking him off.

Somebody hit his shoulder at a run, a first-year by the size of them, causing him to turn back toward Ron and Hermione. Was it selfish to wish they were coming too? "H—" he began. He whipped his head back to check on Dumbledore and saw him walking away. Now or never. He ducked down and set off in the other direction without calling out to Hermione like he wanted. All term the man had ignored him. Voldemort was back and he'd almost been expelled and the man had ignored him.

"Sir?" He huffed, nearly out of breath from the excitement. "What's happening?"

They walked in silence until the noise from the crowd was gone. "Harry, I am always sorry to ask things of you. You're so young."

"I'm ready to fight!" he said for what felt like the millionth time.

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder and they apparated with a pop.

The sensation started in his stomach and gradually spread through his body, like it was vacuuming him up. They reappeared somewhere obviously different—cooler, almost damp air invaded his nostrils and silence met his ears. Goodbye Christmas with Sirius. The light reflecting off the white walls hurt his eyes like how he imagined hospital walls would. But even so, the room was clearly empty.

"Am I—staying…"

"No," Dumbledore cut him off quickly. "You are not staying here. We are simply laying a trap. This room will retain your magical signature so that it will be traced here, assuming you are being tracked."

"Why?" His thoughts raced. It could be the Ministry again—following up the dementor attack. Or Voldemort. And with other people around, an attack could get other people killed. Like Cedric. "Will I be alone?" The pause lasted so long he determined the answer to be yes. "Oh."

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder. "You may wish you were, Harry. I've told you before that I wish for you and Professor Snape to come to an understanding. You will be safe with him at the castle." He squeezed again. "By the time term begins you may know him better than I."

He shrugged the man's hand off and tried to catch his eye. "I'll stay in the dormitory. You can't—"

"Harry."

You can't, he wanted to say again. You can't leave me alone with him. It'll be the worst Christmas I've ever had and I've had some awful ones.

"Let's just go. No point in waiting, right?" He swallowed as much of his anger as he could.

"That's mature of you, my boy," Dumbledore said before apparating them again.

As soon as they reappeared, he shrugged the old man off again and stepped forward. Something cracked under his foot in the same moment that something cracked behind him. He turned to face it and found himself alone. Despite seeing clearly, it took time to realize the place. It was normal. Boring furniture, books, toys, jumpers. It was the sort of mess the Dursleys couldn't stand—the sort that said something bad about the residents. It wasn't Snape the meticulous monster, the greasy git. It belonged to someone normal, someone with kids.

His trunk hit the floor with a thud and he set about exploring. There were boys toys mostly, airplanes and trains. He would have loved them as a kid. He picked up the read-to-the-point-of-being-ratty book off the table but did not recognize the title: Anne of Green Gables. A door slammed shut and he set the book back down like it was glass before stepping away. He prepared himself for Snape with every second that the quick and small-sounding footsteps approached him but what he got wasn't Snape-like at all.

"Are you gonna be my brother?" the little girl asked. He searched her face for Snape-features. She had his eyes, maybe a slightly-large nose, a plastered-arm, and thin, slightly-greasy bobbed hair.

"I'm Harry."

"I'm not stupid."

He bit his lip both to hide laughter and tears. "That's good I suppose."

She shoved her hands in her overall pockets and swayed. "Papa says this is the most pathetic attempt Daddy's ever made for another kid."

"No," Snape's voice boomed. Harry curved his shoulders in for a moment before pulling them back to face him. "Papa said bringing home a new kid without letting him make it first was a new low. Maude, Harry Potter. Pull your jaw off the floor boy."

He tried to remember the last time he'd seen Snape in anything other than dress robes. It was for Quidditch, surely. The man's khakis and jumper were like a slap to the face nonetheless.

"Hi Maude." He looked back at his trunk. "Sir?"

"You are sharing David's room. You will not cause trouble. You will not be disrespectful."

You are not wanted here. Dumbledore stole your perfect Christmas and gave you to me as punishment. "I don't need a lecture. Sir. Tell me what chores to do and where to sleep and I'll stay out of your way."

Maude scowled as best she could but didn't manage to be anything other than cute. "Cheeky arsehole."

"Yes he is." Snape patted her head before walking off. At the doorway leading to the kitchen he called over his shoulder. "Boy!"

Harry hurried after him, happy to put Maude out of mind for the moment. They entered at the first doorway and he was dismayed to see that the door was off its hinges. How could he possibly sleep in a room with no door? What if Snape or _Papa _perved in on him? He dropped his trunk at the foot of the bed Snape pointed him toward. At least, given the decorations, he was sharing with someone his age. Impossible, a Snape spawn his age, but better than a little kid.

"Where's the door?"

"David's been hiding contraband. I have no patience for it." Harry mouthed the word contraband. "Liquor and marijuana. I'll return the door once he and I have had a discussion. If you're going to be –squeamish about it-"

"Fuck off."

Snape rounded up on him and grabbed the front of his shirt in a single motion. "Insolence has consequences in my household. You want a door—do not agitate me. Making you miserable might be the only thing I enjoy this holiday."

He tried not to focus on the man's yellow teeth and bad breath and honking nose but it was impossible not to. How could anyone want to make a baby with him? "Fuck off."

-L;

He sat on his bed staring at his potions' text for hours. Between the Gryffindor pendant on the wall and the assortment of red and gold knickknacks, he could make some assumptions about the room's occupant—David. But Snape's son being in Gryffindor was so impossible he couldn't even entertain the thought. Though he was certain there was a 7th year named David. He stared out the doorway into the hall and shivered. With no door he couldn't rest, much less sleep. He returned to his text and read only a few words before seeing a shadow fall across the doorway.

"Eads!" Harry exclaimed when he saw he older boy. He didn't play quidditch or hang around too much, but he had been caught with Fred and George a few times.

"Now what've you done, Potter?"

"Nothing!" he responded on instinct. "Just one of the joys of being Harry Potter." He smirked while they shared a silence. "So I bet you get a lot of detention. Joys of being a Snape."

David's smile turned into a frown. "Yeah I'm sure having you here's gonna make this a fun holiday." He dragged his trunk in and dropped it at the end of his bed before sitting on it. "So have you met our Papa yet?"

Harry cleared his throat.

"Oh—" David continued, "sorry about the door. You and Papa will get along, I think. He's a real famous defense master."

It didn't make him feel any better. Nobody that had a family with Snape could be sane. "I'll just try to keep to myself, thanks. Maybe do some revision."

"Probably wise. Dad's been in a mood lately."

Harry snorted, but withheld the comment. Snape's always in a mood.

"He's not a bad dad. He works long hours. Papa travels a lot." He shrugged.

Harry shrugged.

"Potter!" Snape bellowed from the other room.


End file.
